


Pillow Talk

by karmula



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Grinding, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Names, Pillow Talk, Shameless Smut, Slash, Smut, i tried to make this sound poetic or whatever but honestly, of sorts, that is not how it turned out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmula/pseuds/karmula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nobody but you / 'body but me / 'body but us / bodies together;<br/>I'd love to hold you close, tonight and always / I'd love to wake up next to you..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

It’s our Paradise…

 

“You know, we still haven’t given you a last name.”

Finn rolled over towards the voice, the mattress squeaking a little underneath him. Poe, his elbow propped up on his pillows with his head resting in the palm of his hand, was gazing at him with an almost thoughtful expression.

It wasn’t the first time Finn had woken up beside Poe, not the first time he’d experienced the Resistance pilot’s handsome, angular face being the first thing he saw when he woke up, but today was different. Maybe it was just his mind, dwelling on the events of the previous night, but he didn’t think so.

Maybe something tangible, other than the scratches he’d left on Poe’s back and the bruising kisses Poe had left in return on his skin, other than the stains on their sheets and the smell of sweat in the air, had lingered through the night. Finn was sure he could feel it, even _see_ it, colouring the light that streamed through their porthole-like window a rosy shell-pink.

Yes, something had definitely changed between them. A final barrier broken, perhaps. Another step taken into an undiscovered world, bringing something neither of them had foreseen into view on the horizon. A piece of the puzzle, clicking into place.

It caught Finn a little off-guard, the way Poe was looking at him, with those sleepy, sparkling brown eyes of his, prettily creased at the corners from a lifetime of smiles and laughter. Finn tried to stay focused on them, but he found himself distracted, what with their sheets draped no higher than Poe’s hips, the plane of his lover’s unclothed stomach bared for all to see. If he was standing, his knees would be weak. As it was, he began to salivate.

“Well, can you think of anything?” Finn asked, swallowing hard, still trying to play it cool. He zeroed in on a stray curl of hair that had flopped across Poe’s forehead and was dangling between his eyes, grateful to have somewhere to look other than down _there._

“Oh, I can think of something, alright.”

 _That_ really _doesn’t sound like he’s talking about what he says he’s talking about_ , Finn thought, his heart thrumming. Then again, it wasn’t like this was an uncommon occurrence when it came to Poe. The man made innuendos out of anything, without even realising he was _doing_ it half the time. _Damn him_!

“Some – something?”

Poe reached out and wrapped an arm around Finn’s shoulders, pulling him closer until his head lay neatly on his chest, his halo of coarse, close-cropped hair nestled comfortably underneath his chin.

Feeling brave – probably because he didn’t have to stumble anymore under Poe’s piercing gaze, which actually was really only slightly more anxiety-inducing than the sensation of his warm embrace – Finn played absentmindedly with the hair on Poe’s chest, tracing circles lightly with the tip of his finger into his tawny skin.

There was a contented silence for a few moments; Finn could practically hear the cogs in Poe’s brain turning. He could feel Poe’s heart, beating steadily, and his body rose and fell with every inhale and exhale of the man beneath him. Occasionally, Poe would lean down and press a kiss to the crown of Finn’s head, all the while stroking the jagged, raised stretch of skin that split Finn’s back in two with soft, healing hands. He began to relax, breathing slower and slower until they were perfectly in tune. It felt like a moment dipped in amber, like a fond memory rather than something being lived in here and now. Something transcendent of time and space, surreal and serene and perfect.

“Yeah, something,” Poe said finally, and swallowed so hard Finn felt his throat bobbing against his skull. Suddenly, that sense of something different was back. There was a sense of electricity that Finn couldn’t quite decode. He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten here, from the fire of the previous night to this morning’s playful teasing and easy embraces to this, this seriousness they usually avoided like the plague, or Rey’s cooking. Seriousness was for goodbyes, something neither of them were very fond of.

“You can tell me, Poe.” He lifted his head and met Poe’s eye with a soft smile. “You can tell me anything.”

“Well… how does Dameron sound? Finn Dameron?”

“Finn Dameron,” Finn repeated, tasting the words on his tongue.

They tasted like the first time he’d had ice cream, when Poe had pilfered some from General Organa’s private supply and they’d giggled like younglings as they ate it in the dark of the mess hall, squatted underneath a table. 

They tasted like his first picnic, when Poe had flown him what felt like halfway across D’Qar until they’d reached a shaded spot at the top of a hill, where they ate sandwiches and fed each other grapes under a sinking sky.

They tasted like freedom, like happiness. They tasted like wide blue skies and even wider smiles. They tasted like the lips of a Resistance pilot, warm and sweet and human, like raw emotion and vulnerability and strength and everything he thought he’d never get to have.

“Finn, are you alright?” Poe asked worriedly, and Finn suddenly became aware he was crying. “It’s okay if you don’t like it, I won’t be offended, honest – Finn? Finn, buddy, talk to me –”

“I don’t like it,” Finn interrupted, sitting up on top of Poe’s chest. “I don’t _like_ it,” he repeated, and leaned down to kiss Poe’s stunned lips, sweetly at first and then more fiercely until he couldn’t hold it in any longer, laughing into Poe’s open mouth in pure, undiluted exaltation.

“I _love_ it.”

 

* * *

 

....And it's our War Zone

 

They had gotten to know each other well in this room, in this bed, between these sheets; between their sticky skin and searching fingers and the wet, raspy drag of their tongues, there was no nook or cranny left unexplored, nothing left untasted or untouched. They knew each other like the backs of their hands, inside out, back to front.

But this time was different.

This time, Finn didn’t caress. He scratched, he bit, he sucked and rubbed and pinched and Force, did it feel good. It felt even better when Poe responded in the same way, when he nipped at the sensitive skin of his inner thighs or grazed his dark nipples with the sharp edge of his teeth.

This time was no longer the curl of the petals of a rose, folding in on each other until they became one single, beautiful entity. This time was a collision, a crash, the violent explosion of twin suns in a sudden rush of blinding heat and searing golden glow.

This time was fucking, this time was reckless behaviour that threatened to leave them splintered and aching.

This time was love as neither of them had ever experienced it, physical and raw, balancing upon complete trust in one another as they succumbed to fire and burning passion.

Poe’s orange jumpsuit hung around his waist, his naked chest gleaming with a sheen of sweat in the dim moonlight. He straddled Finn’s fully-clothed form tightly as he rocked his hips back and forth with a feverish urgency, digging his nails sharply into Finn’s wide shoulders like his life depended upon it.

Likewise, Finn tightened his fingers on Poe’s hips, his grip unflinching even when the jut of his hipbones stabbed into him with each furious thrust. Sweat dripped from his brow, dampened his shirt and ran in clammy rivulets down Poe’s chest.

Gasping, Poe could feel Finn’s growing arousal even through the thick fabric of his trousers, grinding his cock against it and shuddering each time, hot arousal pooling like liquid fire in the pit of his stomach.

It was so much, too much, his head spinning with the sensation and his skin burning as if with fever, and yet it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Hang on,” Poe panted, and leaned back to strip away the rest of his jumpsuit, followed quickly by his undergarments with Finn’s help. Then they turned to Finn, tearing away first his shirt, then his pants – Poe fumbled with the belt buckle, his hands trembling – and his boxers.

Grasping onto the headboard for support, Finn wrapped his legs around Poe’s slim waist and pulled him in til their bodies were pressed flush together, his cock caught between them and Poe’s underneath, against the cleft of his buttocks, the friction of his rubbing against Poe’s stomach so unbearable it felt as if it were literally creating sparks. Finn even caught himself worrying that it would set them alight.

Clutching at Finn’s hips with one hand, Poe used the other to find his entrance, using his own slickness as he pried it open and tested it with first one finger, then two. Finn cried out, something that may have been Poe’s name but was far too mangled to tell, but rocked welcomingly into the touch.

Then Poe finally thrust into him, filling him from the inside out in a way that was at once dirty and pure, and if the meeting of their bodies had been the collision of two suns, this was a solar flare.

The rest came in a series of disjointed moments, broken by flashes of heat and light. Poe’s cheeks, flushed a bright pink; his cock, finally hitting that sweet spot deep inside with a ferocity that seemed bruising; Poe’s mouth, his lips glistening with saliva and fallen open in a perfect ‘o’ as he thrust inside Finn for the last time and emptied himself; thick, sticky wetness as the pressure inside him, too, was released, landing first on his own skin then transferring to Poe’s as they leaned into one another, riding out this final wave; their bodies, collapsed together in a tangled heap; their mouths, joined in a crushing kiss, all clashing teeth and clumsy tongues.

All these moments were consumed in fire, in licking spires of yellow and red that ate them alive and sent their pulses racing and blew their pupils wide, their bodies responding to this new contact in the same way they responded to gunfire and ‘saber slashes in the battlefield.

Except here, with Poe’s limbs tangled inextricably around him and the shudder of his breath in his ears, Finn found that, for whatever reason, these flames were different than the flames of war he knew so well.

These left him feeling whole, rather than in ashes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Kudos and comments, especially constructive criticism, are greatly appreciated as always.
> 
> Also, I apologise for any mistakes or weird phrasing. I was sleep-deprived and desperate to get this up and out of my drafts when I posted it, so I'm just hoping it'll read okay when I check on it in the morning.


End file.
